The Next Few Days
by Yanagi-sen
Summary: Sequel to Those First Few Days... Esset won't leave them alone after they ruined the ceremony... will they? rating for language and minor violence


The Next Few Days 

by Yanagi-sen

Weiss Kreuz fanfic

Usual disclaimers apply.  Schwarz is not mine… much as I may wish to claim them as my own.  Entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: some blood… some angst… not a lot of plot…

~Sequel to Those First Few Days~

"Alright, so you're not a total bastard.  Nagi's getting better, Weiss has vanished.  So now can we think about what to do about those stooges Esset keeps sending?  I mean, sooner or later someone's bound to get lucky."

Brad just raised an eyebrow.  Schu took that as an invitation to go on.  He jumped up on the counter to sit next to the gurgling coffee pot.  "They're nothing compared to us.  But they just keep sending them!  Farf's in heaven, figuratively of course, and I'm having fun.  But eventually the two of us might not be able to keep them off our backs."

"I am aware of that.  And don't."

Schu hopped down and started to pour the coffee.  "Don't what?"  He handed a cup to the American.

"Don't put sugar in my coffee."

Schuldich tried to act innocent, and failed miserably.  "I wouldn't …"

"You would have.  I strongly recommend you do not."

"You're no fun."

"Yes, I know."  He focused on his specially delivered copy of the New York Times.

"Braaaad…"

"Don't call me that!"

"But what…"

"Just wait.  We still have time."

"You know what's coming?"  Crawford didn't answer.  Finally, Schu lost what little patience he had.  "Oh fine, don't answer."  He got up and refilled his cup, before heading for the door.

"Take some juice with you.  He'll want it by the time you get there."

"Come in."

Schu poked his redhead around the door.  "Nagi?"

"Hey, could you get me…"  The telepath held up the glass of juice.  "Oh… how?"

"Braddy."

"Of course.  Thanks."

Schuldich sat down on the floor next to the boy's futon.  "So… do YOU know what's going on?"

"With?"

"Esset."

"Ah.  Well, I haven't exactly been getting progress reports from them, you know."

"Like YOU need to rely on the reports."

Nagi smiled slightly.  "Are you implying that I have a way into Esset's system?"

Schu snorted.  "When have you NOT had a way in?"  The boy smirked and tapped a bit on his laptop.  He turned the screen toward the German.

"Oh, shit!"

"We have to move NOW!"  It was nearly a week after Nagi had shown Schu what Esset was up to.  They were sitting at the table, enjoying take-out from down the street, when Brad burst into the kitchen.  Nagi was already heading to grab his laptop and coat, the American grabbed his arm.  "Don't forget your gun."  The boy nodded and disappeared.

Schu headed for the door.  They had very specific duties when things like this happened.  Nagi's was to get himself and his laptop to the designated safehouse as quickly as possible.  Schu took responsibility for Farf and Brad made sure there was nothing left that could give away their position.

Most of what they owned was replaceable.  Things of personal value, were either kept in a safety deposit box, or ready to grab and go.  Schu's only items of personal worth, besides weapons, were his yellow scarf, which he only took off to shower or sleep, and his leather trench, which he would be wearing.

Nagi passed him on his way back down the hall, computer in its case on his back, stuffing his cell in the pocket of this coat.  Schu checked as he passed, yep, the boy had remembered his gun in its small-of-the-back holster.  He knew in the pack, Nagi also had a ribbon that had belonged to Tot, and one of Tsukiyono's darts, oddly enough.

Farf was still in one of his more lucid moments.  He was picking up the bag containing his knife collection when Schu opened his door.  "Time t'go?"

"Ja."  The German popped into his room to grab his coat and followed the pale Irishman down the hall.  He did a quick 'head' check.  Brad was finishing up with the office computer, his coat, gun and the first aid kit ready to go.  Nagi was already at the bus stop and getting on a cross-town shuttle.  He stepped into the elevator with Farf for the quick trip to the parking garage in the basement, and then left in his sports car.  They would take the most circuitous route.  Brad would soon follow in his BMW by an alternate way.  Nagi took the most direct path, but changed from bus to subway and even walked part of it.  

Whoever arrived first would check the safehouse and then call an all clear or alarm.  It was tense, since depending on traffic and other factors; Nagi could be the first to arrive.  For him to check, he would have to enter the place, unlike Schu who could scan from the outside, or Brad would know when he arrived if it was safe.

After a half hour, Farf started fretting in the passenger seat.  "What?"

"I think Nagi's gonna beat us."

"You don't like him being first either?"

"Ní hea.  Especially with him havin' been sick."

"I know."

The pale man was silent for a long time.  "Do ye think he really cares?"

"Nagi?"

"Brad."

"I guess so.  He just has his own way of showing it."

"Do ye think he cares about us?"

"Maybe not as much as for Nagi, why?"

"I can't help but wonder if he's set us up."  Schu glanced over; the Irishman's amber eye was thoughtful.  "I mean, we've split up, we're headin' t'a supposedly 'safe' location.  What if he's set us up and is skippin' out right now?"

"You mean, sacrificing us?"

"Or made a deal?"

Schu hadn't thought of that.  And Brad was well nigh impossible to read, even worse than Nagi.  His mind turned over Brad's behavior the last few weeks since the failure of Esset's ceremony.  "No."

"No?"

"No."  He said with finality.

Schu's cell phone rang suddenly in its mount on the dashboard.  Farf hit the button.  "Aye?"

-Where are you?-

Schu snorted.  /Nice to hear from you too, Braddy./  "We're about 10 minutes from the safehouse."

-Damn!  I'm locked in traffic.  Nagi will reach it first.-

The redhead felt a chill; Brad would only be calling if…  "He's walking into trouble?"

-He won't be alone.  There are too many variables and I can't tell the outcome.  Traffic is too bad for me to spare the concentration to focus.  Just get there as fast as you can.-  The line went dead.

"Why didn't he call 'im?"

"Don't know, try it."  Farf dialed Nagi's cell number.  

"Nothing."

"Damn!"  He concentrated on driving, if he didn't he'd go crazy.  Farf started bouncing in his seat as the pent-up energy started to mount.  Eight minutes.  The German wove through traffic, trying to creep through the nearly solid block of vehicles.  Five minutes.  Finally breaking free, he was able to make it to the slightly freer side streets.  Farf started digging through his knife collection.  Three minutes.  They pulled into the parking garage and leapt out.  One minute to the door.  Schu couldn't help wondering if they would make it in time.

Nagi stepped out of the elevator for the safehouse.  It was actually only an apartment, and a small one at that, but safehouse sounded better.  Theirs was the only apartment on this level, a definite selling factor for Brad, despite the cost.  Nagi set his pack down, about three feet from the door.  That would indicate to the others that he was checking the place, if his bag was gone he was done and the coast was clear.

Standing to the side of the door, he knocked.  It sounded stupid but it was surprising how many intruders would actually answer the door.  Nothing.  Next he checked the door over physically.  Visually at first, then with sensitive fingers.  No wires, no visible fuses, no apparent signs of forced entry.  He leaned in close and sniffed, explosives, chemicals, gas, even cologne or aftershave could give away a trap.  Detecting nothing Nagi went to the next step in his mental checklist.  He inserted the key and waited, still to the side of the door.  Nothing.  Turned the lock and waited, nothing.

At this point, he had two choices, go back and wait or enter the apartment.  Brad, and Schu too, had drilled the procedures into him.  This point was always his choice.  To enter and do a room-by-room search, or wait for backup.  Deciding that Brad would have called if he had seen anything bad, Nagi opened the door.

"Come on, come on, come on…"  Schu tapped his foot impatiently as he and Farf rode up in the elevator.  The door finally opened and the pale Irishman charged out as though shot from a spring.  Nagi stood in the hallway, his hand poised to open the door.  "NAGI!!!"

The boy half-turned toward them, surprise showing on his face.  Farf didn't wait for Schu's warning; he barreled into the slight teen just as the sound of gunfire filled the short hallway.  The two went down in a tangle as Schu cast his mind into the apartment.  He easily located the two intruders and with a burst of power, knocked them out.  But didn't kill.  No, THAT pleasure would be reserved for Brad after they got everything they could from the two.  He figured Crawford would be itching to hurt the ones who could have killed Nagi.

He brought his attention back to the hallway and his two team members sprawled on the floor.  "Quick thinking, Farf, good job."

"Not quick enough."

"Eh?"  The Irishman carefully lifted himself off the boy lying crumpled beneath him.  It was only then that Schu noticed the growing pool of blood.  "Shit!"  He fell to his knees beside the boy.  Nagi was laying in a fetal position, hair falling over his face.  They carefully rolled him onto his back.

Nagi's normally pale face was ashen, mouth pressed to a thin line, his features tense with pain.  One hand was clutching his left shoulder, blood running down the thin fingers.  His eyes were slitted, midnight-blue darkened by the pain.  He looked up at Schu.  "Hey…"

"Hey.  You okay, chibi?"  Nagi just smiled weakly as Schu drew his hand away from the wound.  Farf left to truss up the two inside the apartment.  The German replaced Nagi's hand and then lifted the boy to carry him into the apartment.  Nagi made no complaint except for a soft involuntary moan.  He set he smaller assassin down on the tarp Farf had laid out, Brad hated getting bloodstains out of the carpet.

The Irishman came to lean over Schu's shoulder.  "Yer bleedin' like a stuck pig."

Nagi rolled his eyes a little.  "Thanks."

"You're lucky kid.  The door kept them from being able to aim.  They were counting on a full grown man, not a scrawny thing like you."  Nagi didn't respond this time, just quirked his lips slightly.  "Farf will you get us a blanket and a few pillows.  A towel too."  He added as the pale man disappeared.  Schu spoke calmly but his mind was racing.  Between the two of them, they got the boy as comfortable as they could till Brad arrived with the first aid kit.

"How is he?"  Brad bust through the door not fifteen minutes later.

"Shocky.  We propped his legs and I'm applying pressure but he's really bleeding here."  Brad joined Schu on the floor beside the boy.

"Nagi?"

"Brad…"  He seemed barely able to keep his eyes open.  The American lifted the blanket to see where Schu still held the blood soaked towel to the boy's shoulder.

"How do you feel, honestly?  And don't lie."

"It hurts… and I'm tired…"

"Just rest, Nagi.  Let me check it out and then maybe we can give you something for the pain."  He looked up and met Schu's eyes.  "We need to get him up off the floor."

"Farf's already set up the kitchen table with the other tarp.  I just didn't want to move him again till you got here."

"I'll get his legs."  Nagi inhaled sharply as they accidentally jostled his shoulder.

/Schu? /

/Brad? /

Crawford glared at him.  /Can you put him out?  It'll be easier to treat him. /

/You just can't stand to see him hurting. /

/Schuldich! /

/Already done. /

The American cut away Nagi's shirt and then pulled on a pair of gloves to examine the wound.  "It's a clean shot right through.  Inch or so higher and it would have missed him completely."

"Couple inches lower and it would have hit bone."

"Yes.  As it is the muscle is a mess.  Not to mention he's still bleeding.  Nothing to do but stitch him up."

"I don't suppose a trip to the hospital is feasible THIS time either?"

"For a gunshot wound?  Be serious.  We'd never see him again."

"I guess it's a good think Esset insisted on all that first aid training for you, huh?"

"It's a requirement for all field leaders.  Now will you be quiet and let me work?"

Nagi sighed again.  He seemed to be spending more time in bed than out of it lately.  He finally recovered from the pneumonia, and then he gets shot.  He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position for his shoulder and arm.  Brad had done a good job stitching him up, as always, he was just so anal about it.  At least the scar wouldn't be too noticeable.  But to top it all off… he had a headache to go with the throbbing in his shoulder.  Not quite a migraine, but bad enough.  He'd been using his powers to help Schu slow the blood flow until Brad had gotten there.  Using his gift like that, fine control over a period of time, was taxing on a good day.  Factor in the pain and shock of his injury… headache.

/Feeling sorry for yourself, chibi? /

His midnight eyes slid towards the doorway and the annoying German redhead standing there.  He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the propped pillow.  "Leave me alone, Schu.  I'm not in the mood."

"Getting shot will do that to you."  Without invitation he entered and settled on the edge of Nagi's bed.  

After a couple minutes of silence, Nagi cracked on eye.  The telepath was still sitting there, watching him.  "What?"

"Can't I just keep you company."

He opened both eyes now, watching Schu warily.  "Not likely.  What do you want?"

"Oh alright, Brad wanted me to change the dressing on your shoulder."

"Now?" Nagi knew he was whining, he didn't care.  "I finally got comfortable… ITAI!"

"Uh huh… I can see how comfortable you are.  Just let me do it and get it over with."  Schu's hands were surprisingly gentle as he removed the old bandages and deftly wrapped the new ones.  "There… hmm, well, you're not bleeding as badly today.  Don't suppose you feel like eating do you?"

Nagi shook his head; all he wanted was sleep, preferably painless sleep.

Schu of course caught that little tidbit.  "Why won't you take the painkillers?  We have them for a reason you know."

The boy shook his head again.  "Iie."

Schu sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair.  "Why are you so stubborn about that?"  Nagi turned away, staring blankly out the window.  "Nagi…"  /Chibi… talk to me.  What's so wrong about taking the medicine? /

He bit his lip, and sighed.  "Schu…" his voice was barely above a whisper, "Did I ever tell you about my kaasan?"

The German cocked his head.  "Not that I can recall.  I thought you didn't remember your parents."

"I don't… well, not much anyway.  And most of what I remember isn't good."  His voice trailed off, a haunted look coming to his eyes.

"Your kaasan…" Schu prompted.

"She took these pills.  I remember they were blue… just like the painkillers Brad keeps in the first aide kit.  I didn't know what they were.  I asked her once… when I was about three I think.  She backhanded me right into the wall."  The redhead jerked slightly, as if startled, but Nagi didn't turn away from the window.  "I didn't ask her again.  I learned quickly.  Don't ask questions, don't let them see you, don't let them hear you; maybe then you won't get hit.  She acted funny when she took those little blue pills.  Usually, she'd just fall asleep.  But sometimes, she'd start pacing around and waving her arms, talking to the air.  Those were the times I'd just go hide, in the back of the closet, cause if she saw me, she'd start in on how everything was my fault.  The fact that my father hit her, my fault.  That he was a drunkard who spent all the money on booze, my fault.  The fact that she was stuck there with a kid when she could be out having fun, my fault.  I hated those little blue pills.  Hated what they did to her, what she did to me.  I won't take them Schu.  I swore to myself I would NEVER take stuff like that."

"Nagi-kins… you're not her.  Sure your parents were useless assholes that didn't deserve a kid like you, but you're not like them."

"Don't start in on how I'm 'special'!  That doesn't make up for the fact that my parents were the most worthless human beings on the face of the planet!  I HATE THEM!  ITAI!!!"  He collapsed back against the pillows as his shoulder spasmed, pain radiating up and down his arm and across his chest.  Involuntary tears burned a path down his cheeks as he bent over, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming.

"Nagi… relax… don't tense up, you're going to make it hurt more…"  Schu was there, beside him, rubbing his back and trying to coax him back against the pillows again.  "Calm down, kid, calm down…"  Nagi concentrated on relaxing his taut muscles one by one until he collapsed, boneless against the cushions once more.  "Shhhh… just relax…" Schu wiped the mingled sweat and tears from his face, and repropped his arm, all the while murmuring soothingly.

"I… I'm sorry…"

"No… don't worry about it… I'm the one who should apologize.  It's your business, I shouldn't have pried.  I didn't mean to get you so worked up.  You just relax here and maybe you'll feel like eating some soup later?  Okay?"

"Okay."

"Will you at least take some aspirin?"

"Yeah."  The redhead snagged the bottle off the dresser and handed Nagi a couple of the bitter white pills and a glass of water.  When he was done, Schu sat beside him, stroking his hair.  Within minutes, Nagi fell asleep.

"That kid is really messed up."

"Like you're one to talk?"

"Huh?"

"I believe it is a case of the pot and the kettle, Schuldich."

"Fuck you too."

Brad smirked slightly and laid his newspaper, neatly folded of course, on the table.  He waited for Farf to join them.  "Gentlemen, there is something we need to do…"

"You have wisdom to impart to us, Oh Great Seer?"

The American scowled and Schu continued to stare at him, unrepentant.  "As a matter of fact I do.  I trust you don't have anything pressing to do?"

"Well, nothing I can't reschedule…  Farf?"

"I suppose I can fit ye in… What's the plan?"

All three were grinning like evil schoolboys.  "What do you say to a bit of hunting?"

"It was great Nagi.  I wish you could have been there."

"I'm just as glad I wasn't."

"Spoilsport."

Nagi couldn't help smiling as Schu gleefully recounted their 'hunting trip', sparing none of the gory details.  "So, are we in the clear?"

Schu sighed testily.  "NO!  We eliminated all the lackey-level personnel, but those jerks in Germany sent in one of their 'clean-up' teams.  They were gone by the time we got there."

"Kuso!  They sent an Omega unit?  We're screwed."

"Optimistic as always.  By the way brat, Brad wants you to pull up anything you can on these names.  Can you type okay with that arm?"

"I'll manage."

"Nagi?"

It was the first time he had been allowed to sit with the others.  They were in the living room with Nagi comfortably propped up on the couch, but that was the only concession to his injury.

"Okay, well this team is designated, Omega-8332…"

"You know, Braddy… I was so happy when you started calling us 'Schwarz' rather than by our designation."

"Don't call me Braddy… and don't interrupt."

"Anyway… their leader is a man by the name of Karl.  I couldn't find a last name.  He's German and a telepath."

"What's he look like?  I think I might have known him in training."  Schu was suddenly intensely serious.  

"Basically, he could have been poster child for the Third Reich, tall, blond, blue eyes…"

"A colder bastard you've never met.  He makes YOU seem warm and fuzzy, Brad."

"Schuldich!"

"So he ended up an Omega division?  Doesn't surprise me.  Anywhere else you have to be at least moderately concerned about the welfare of your teammates."

"Will he be a problem?"

"Count on it."

"Next, Nagi?"

"There's Andrew Smith, not sure if that is an alias or not.  He's American, and illusionist apparently."

"Illusionist?  Internal or external?"

"It didn't say."

"What's the difference?"  Farf asked from where he was mutilating a magazine on the floor.

"Internal illusionists make you hallucinate, only you can see it.  External means they create illusions that everyone within range can see.  It's almost unheard of for someone to do both."

"Then we have another American, Samantha Brown.  She's a clairvoyant specializing in psycometry."

"Huh?"

"She can pick up stuff by touching an object you touched."

"Oh."

"Apparently, she's powerful enough that she wears gloves… all the time."

"Powerful, or crappy shields."

"Hm, true, either way we might be able to use that."

"The final 'gifted' member is Martine Renault, French obviously, and a telempath."

"An EMPATH?!  What the Hell is an empath doing in Omega?  They can't handle the emotional drain!"

"Normally, I'd agree with you.  But for some reason, she's there.  Her file described her as cold, unfeeling and unforgiving.  Oh, and apparently, she can make you 'feel' pain."

Farf's head popped up.  "Really?"

"Ok chibi, you said that was the last member, but Omega teams are always five, just like field teams are four."

"Actually I said she was the last 'gifted' member.  The fifth person on the team is an ungifted hulk named Jon.  He's basically there for brute strength and that's it."

"Oh just lovely… a telepath, telEMpath, illusionist, clairvoyant, and a rock… wonderful."  Schu got up and irritably stalked to the kitchen for yet another cup of coffee.

"You're addicted to that stuff."

"Screw you too, Bradley.  And it's better than some of the other stuff I've been 'addicted' to over the years."

"So what do we do about the psycho squad?"  Nagi asked, typing away again.

"Well… there isn't a lot we can do for now."  Schu commented as he settled back down again.  "With talents like that, we're not gonna find them till they want to be found.  Unless you know something, O Illustrious Leader."  The redhead drank his coffee, unfazed by Crawford's glare.  Long association apparently making him immune.  

Brad finally sighed and removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.  "For now… we wait."

"Behold the pale horse, and the man that sat on him was Death… and Hell followed with him."  Farf grinned and sliced another picture.

Yeah yeah… I know… not a lot actually happens… but hopefully that will change… provided I ever get around to doing the next part of this.  Poor Nagi… he's really having a sucky summer… pneumonia… then he gets shot… school probably sounds like a better alternative. -Yan


End file.
